(The Black Heart Procession plays in the background. gorgeous darkness)
Can’t seem to wonder about the nothingness of past everything lying ahead.
Not wanting these dirty bubbles to sing me to sleep, at last.
Thinking I can maybe forget what has not yet occurred with fresh homes and ripe skin and clean baths. warm cooking waters.
Wishing it all didn’t sound so much the same. Last time when I sat hunched and curled. My nose lingering with the floor boards. Always stuck below forgotten words.
Stop starting to begin an adventure. attempt to explain the dark bar in the Mission and the orange sun in the sky, mixed with brown snow slush.
the brick buildings just never seem the same.
And so I embark on my way in the early morning. hoping to find the last time I couldn’t drink the water or the wine. It burned the back of my throat. Glowing with loneliness to strangle the tears of a moment past.
But still in my head obsessively thinking about the irrelevance of her - She sings the extinction of beauty living behind my eyes.
and you do not exist enough to know what has disappeared over time. buried under ashes of an exploding star colliding with his lingering voice sliding against my wet skin to land in little soap puddles on the concrete rocky walls dividing us. simplicity lost in exhausting conversations.
End
Doorknob gripped between sticky fingers and sugar cotton candy smiles
Fingernails bitten too low
Splinters scattered to the wind and collected by the insects. and mud. and dust.
Survive - for you and for me.
and see the green again. The winter willows turn their heads west to the rising suns of other worlds. We toss and turn under the covers of a cold empty bed waiting for sleep to return me to my dreams. to fly
and now i feebly search for elusive rest. goodnight.
Saturday morning i leave for New Orleans.
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